


I Told You That I Loved You Dear

by celli



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Engagement, M/M, Yuletide 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: "Marriage?" On the moon or even here on Earth.--"Sure."
Relationships: Ronan Farrow/Jon Lovett
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	I Told You That I Loved You Dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sonni89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonni89/gifts).

> All my thanks to my awesome beta and cheerleader!

Ronan moved through the house quietly, setting down his laptop bag next to the couch and his suitcase next to the washing machine. The house gave him his usual clues about Jonathan’s life outside their daily phone calls and regular texts: slightly less clutter than usual, telling Ronan that Crooked Media had been busy during his week’s absence, but extra soda cans around the living room, suggesting that Jonathan had managed to have a social life despite everything going on for both of them. Probably Spencer, if the gaming controllers scattered about were anything to go by.

Jonathan would make a crack about Ronan using his high-powered journalism skills for ridiculous reasons. The thought made Ronan grin.

Pundit stirred and woofed quietly when he entered the bedroom; he shushed her and bent down to scratch her behind the ears. He rubbed her head and she lay back down in her dog bed, sighing as she relaxed again.

There was a new picture frame on the dresser, sharing space with the clutter of family photos and vacation selfies. Ronan knew all those photos by heart, but he couldn’t make out this new picture in the dim lighting. He squinted at it as he stripped out of his suit jacket and dress shirt.

“Ronan?” Jonathan asked, voice heavy and rough. He turned over in bed. Pundit stirred again, then fell quiet.

“Go back to sleep,” Ronan said. “It’s late.”

“_You’re_ late,” Jonathan said. “Weather stuff?”

“Yeah, my plane leaving Chicago had to wait out a storm and then get de-iced. We were on the tarmac for two and a half hours.”

“Sucks to be Chicago,” Jonathan said, smug even half-asleep. Ronan laughed.

Jonathan turned on the nightstand light and fumbled for his glasses. Ronan smiled down at him; seeing Jonathan at the end of a long day was like getting a chance to breathe freely for the first time after a cloud of smoke. Everything that had knotted up his brain all day - all week, while he’d been away from Jonathan - suddenly seemed to take its proper perspective.

“I missed you,” Ronan said.

Jonathan smiled. “I missed you, too.”

“What’s the new picture?” Ronan asked, turning to pick up the frame and hold it to the light. Then—“Oh.” Because it wasn’t a picture at all. It was a printout of the manuscript page from _Catch and Kill_ that he’d so carefully brought to Jonathan’s attention, with the track changes visible to one side. 

_"Marriage?" On the moon or even here on Earth.  
\--"Sure."_

“Did you think I’d forgotten?” Jonathan asked.

“I definitely did not,” Ronan said. He sat on the edge of the bed. “I know it’s a little unorthodox—”

“If by ‘unorthodox’ you mean nerdy as all fuck, then yes. Yes it was,” Jonathan said.

“But it took the last couple of years, I think, for me to fully realize how vital you are to me.” Ronan took Jonathan’s hand. “And exactly how destroyed my life would be without you in it.”

“You don’t need to propose, we’re already engaged,” Jonathan said, but his eyes were bright.

“I just want you to _know_,” Ronan said.

“I know, I promise you. And listen—I know we went through a lot since all this started. I know I pushed you in a lot of ways.” Ronan waved his free hand, but Jonathan caught it and held it. “I did, and sometimes maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did anyway. It’s just - you are the best at what you do, I believe it with everything in me, and some days I wake up and I still don’t know what act of God put you in my life, I really don’t.”

Now Ronan was crying. “Jonathan.”

“I’m just saying, this hardly goes one way. I love you, goddammit,” Jonathan said, loudly enough to alert Pundit again and have her bouncing over to the bed, checking to see if anyone was interested in pets, walks, and/or treats. Both Jonathan and Ronan laughed wetly. Ronan pulled Jonathan in for a belated kiss, clinging to him for a long, long time.

“I love you too,” he said, and Pundit barked as if to join in. 

“Yes, Pundit, everyone loves you,” Jonathan said.

When Pundit calmed back down, Ronan finished changing and tucked himself under the covers with Jonathan cuddled in close. “You know what this means,” he said into the dark.

“Engaged sex?” Jonathan asked. “I’m begging you, let it mean engaged sex. I have Heard Things about engaged sex. Except - can it wait until tomorrow? I’m kind of tired. Some jerk walked into my house in the middle of the night and woke me up.”

“Well, yes, please,” Ronan said, “But mostly I was thinking that now we have to have a wedding.”

“Oh, fuck,” Jonathan said.

Ronan picked up his head and looked at Jonathan. 

“I didn’t mean it that way! But I lived across the street from the Favreaus when they were planning their wedding—no, thank you.”

“Not everyone has to have a destination wedding in Maine or Napa or wherever, you know.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s your choice for venue? The moon, of course, must be considered. In our lovely matching spacesuits.”

“There’s always the Rose Garden,” Ronan said. “Classic, beautiful. Think of all your personal history there.”

“My fiancé thinks he’s funny,” Jonathan said to thin air. Ronan absorbed the word with delight.

“I’ll leave being funny to _my_ fiancé, thank you,” he said, and caught the corner of Jonathan’s smile. “What about my mom’s farm?”

“Since the actual moon is probably booked for the date we want, it’s a pretty good second choice,” Jonathan said. “But hear me out: Domino’s for the catering, an escape room for the rehearsal dinner, and I get final say on the flowers.”

Ronan smiled as he got ready to argue.

(They had Italian for the catering, an escape room for the bachelor party, and Jonathan had first, last, and every say on the flowers.)


End file.
